These Waking Dreams
by blue-glass-boat
Summary: In City of Heavenly Fire, a demon trapped Clary, Simon, Isabelle, Alec, and Jace in dreams of what they desired most. They managed to break free eventually... but what if they couldn't? Can they escape from these fake lives? To escape from an ideal world- however fake- has got to be difficult. Can they find freedom- before it's too late?
1. Chapter 1

**Hi everyone! Obviously, this is my new story! So the first half is just the first part of Clary's dream, which was written by Cassandra Clare- not me! But the rest is (written by me). I didn't put Cassandra Clare's writing in italics simply because there is too much of it. Plus, personally, i hate reading big sections of things in italics.  
**

**I also need your opinion on something. Should I do alternating chapters of the dreams... or the complete dreams of everyone in big blocks (still split up by chapters)? Please tell me because I have _no idea _what to do!  
**

**Disclaimer: The characters are not mine, nor are some of the ideas. Also, the first half is not my writing. Does anyone actually read disclaimers? **

Clary stood on a shady lawn that rolled away down a sloping hill. The sky overhead was perfectly blue, dotted here and there with white clouds. At her feet a stone walkway stretched to the front door of a large manor house, built of mellow golden stone.

She craned her head back, looking up. The house was lovely: The stones were the color of butter in the spring sunshine, covered in trellises of climbing roses in red and gold and orange. Wrought iron balconies curved out from the facade, and there were two large arched doors of bronze-colored wood, their surfaces wrought with delicate designs of wings. _Wings for the Fairchilds, said a soft voice, reassuring, in the back of her mind. This is Fairchild manor. It has stood for four hundred years and will stand four hundred more._

"Clary!" Her mother appeared at one of the balconies, wearing an elegant champagne-colored dress; her red hair was down, and she looked young and beautiful. Her arms were bare, circled with black runes. "What do you think? Doesn't it look gorgeous?"

Clary followed her mother's gaze toward where the lawn flattened out. There was an archway of roses set up at the end of an aisle, on either side of which were rows of wooden benches. White flowers were scattered along the aisle: the white flowers that grew only in Idris. The air was rich with their honey scent.

She looked back up at her mother, who was no longer alone on the balcony. Luke was standing behind her, an arm around her waist. He was in rolled-up shirtsleeves and formal trousers, as if halfway dressed for a party. His arms too were twined with runes: runes for good luck, for insight, for strength, for love. "Are you ready?" he called down to Clary.

"Ready for what?" she said, but they didn't seem to hear her. Smiling, they disappeared back into the house. Clary took a few steps along the path.

"Clary!"

She whirled. He was coming toward her across the grass-slender, with white-pale hair that shone in the sunlight, dressed in formal black with gold runes at his collar and cuffs. He was grinning, a smudge of dirt on his cheek, and holding up a hand to block the brightness of the sun.

Sebastian.

He was entirely the same and yet entirely different. He was clearly himself, and yet the whole shape and set of his features seemed to have changed, his bones less sharp, his skin sun darkened rather than pale, and his eyes-

His eyes shone, as green as spring grass.

He has always had green eyes, said the voice in her head. People often marvel at how much alike you are, he and your mother and yourself. His name is Jonathan and he is your brother; he has always protected you.

"Clary," he said again, "you're not going to believe-"

"Jonathan!" a small voice trilled, and Clary turned her wondering eyes to see a little girl dashing across the grass. She had red hair, the same shade as Clary's, and it flew out behind her like a banner. She was barefoot, wearing a green lace dress that had been so thoroughly torn to ribbons at the cuffs and hem that it resembled shredded lettuce. She might have been four or five years old, dirty- faced and adorable, and as she reached Jonathan, she held up her arms, and he bent down to swing her up into the air.

She shrieked in delight as he held her over his head. "Ouch, ouch-quit that, you demon child," he said as she pulled at his hair. "Val, I said stop it, or I'll hold you upside down. I mean it."

"Val?" Clary echoed_. But of course, her name is Valentina, said the whispering voice in the back of her head . Valentine Morgenstern was a great hero of the war; he died in battle against Hodge Starkweather, but not before he had saved the Mortal Cup, and the Clave along with it. When Luke married your mother, they honored his memory in the name of their daughter._

"Clary, make him let me go, make him-owwww!" shrieked Val as Jonathan turned her upside down and swung her through the air. Val dissolved into giggles as he set her down on the grass, and she turned a pair of eyes the exact blue of Luke's up at Clary. "Your dress is pretty," she said matter-of-factly.

"Thank you," Clary said, still half in a daze, and looked at Jonathan, who was grinning down at his small sister. "Is that dirt on your face?"

Jonathan reached up and touched his cheek. "Chocolate," he said. "You'll never guess what I found Val doing. She had both fists in the wedding cake. I'm going to have to patch it up." He squinted at Clary. "Okay, maybe I shouldn't have mentioned that. You look like you're going to pass out."

"I'm fine," Clary said, tugging nervously at a lock of her hair.

Jonathan put his hands up as if to ward her off. "Look, I'll perform surgery on it. No one will ever be able to tell that someone ate half the roses off." He looked thoughtful. "I could eat the other half of the roses, just so it's even."

"Yeah!" said Val from her place on the grass at his feet. She was busy yanking up dandelions, their white pods blowing on the wind.

"Also," Jonathan added, "I hate to bring this up, but you might want to put some shoes on before the wedding."

Clary looked down at herself. He was right, she was barefoot. Barefoot, and wearing a pale gold dress. The hem drifted around her ankles like a sunset- colored cloud. "I-What wedding?"

Her brother's green eyes widened. "Your wedding? You know, to Jace Herondale? About yea high, blond, all the girls looove him-" He broke off. "Are you having cold feet? Is that what this is?" He leaned in conspiratorially. "Because if it is, I'll totally smuggle you over the border into France. And I won't tell anyone where you went. Even if they stick bamboo shoots under my fingernails."

"I don't-" Clary stared at him. "Bamboo shoots?"

He shrugged eloquently. "For my only sister, not counting the creature currently sitting on my foot"-Val yelped-"I would do it. Even if it means not getting to see Isabelle Lightwood in a strapless dress."

"Isabelle? You like Isabelle?" Clary felt as if she were running a marathon and couldn't quite catch her breath.

He squinted at her. "Is that a problem? Is she a wanted criminal or something?" He looked thoughtful. "That would be kind of hot, actually."

"Okay, I don't need to know what you think is hot," Clary said automatically. "Bleh."

Jonathan grinned. It was an unconcerned, happy grin; the grin of someone who'd never really had much to worry about beyond pretty girls and whether one of his little sisters had eaten the other sister's wedding cake. Somewhere in the back of Clary's mind she saw black eyes and whip marks, but she didn't know why. He's your brother. He's your brother, and he's always taken care of you. "Right," he said. "Like I didn't have to suffer through years of 'Oooh, Jace is so cute. Do you think he liiikes me?"

"I-" Clary said, and broke off, feeling a little dizzy. "I just don't remember him proposing."

Jonathan knelt down and tugged on Val's hair. She was humming to herself, bundling daisies together in a pile. Clary blinked-she'd been so sure they were dandelions. "Oh, I don't know if he ever did," he said casually. "We all just knew you'd end up together. It was inevitable."

"But I should have gotten to choose," she said, in a near whisper. "I should have gotten to say yes."

"Well, you would have, wouldn't you?" he said, watching the daisies blow across the grass. "Speaking of, do you think Isabelle would go out with me if I asked her?"

Clary's breath caught. "But what about Simon?"

He looked up at her, the sun bright in his eyes. "Who's Simon?"

Clary frowned. The name seemed to have such importance- but the face behind the name slipped away, easily as sand falling through fingers, leaving only a few grains behind. "You know what, I don't actually know. Wedding nerves." She laughed, reaching down and ruffling Val's hair. A curl of her own hair fell onto her little sister's head, and she couldn't tell where it ended and Val's started. A calm floated over her- this was how it was meant to be. The sun was shining, and the warmth on her face soothed her even more.

"So, about that France thing?" Jonathan teased.

"I think I'll be fine, Jon, but thanks for the offer anyway." She started off towards the house, yelling back to him as she went. "I'd better go get some shoes."

"Clary!" Jocelyn stopped her in the hall leading up to her room. She smiled softly. "You look beautiful."

Clary shifted uncomfortably. She was used to the practicality of gear or jeans- not the floating gown she was wearing, and the feeling of the swish of the soft material around her ankles was foreign. Still, she knew Jace would appreciate it.

"But you're not wearing any shoes!" Jocelyn noticed, and pushed Clary to her room gently. She hunted around for the box while Clary walked to her window. She pushed it open easily.

Guests were wandering around the garden, chatting and admiring the scenery. The Fairchild manor was beautiful- it was her mother's creative touch that made it look even more lovely than usual. She saw Isabelle's long dark hair falling down her back as she gracefully threw her arm out to the side- no doubt embellishing a story of one of their past demon hunts. Clary grinned. It was just like Iz to partake in a bit of exaggeration.

Next to her stood Alec, the dark suit with the golden tie contrasting with his bottle-glass blue eyes. She sighed, wishing that everyone would just accept him for who he was. Being a gay Shadowhunter was hardly easy, and many of the guests were casually ignoring him.

She drew in a breath. Jace was standing by Maryse and Robert, the gold runes on his dark ceremonial gear matching his eyes and hair. As if sensing her gaze on him, he glanced up at her window and grinned. The smile was so genuine- few people had the chance to see it.

"Found them!" Jocelyn announced triumphantly, shaking Clary out of her reverie and holding up a pair of golden heels and then setting them down on the floor.

"Thanks, mom." As she walked across the hardwood floor, Clary felt like Cinderella, lifting up her gown and stepping into the shoes. She took a deep breath and held it. A bell tolled, signaling the start of the ceremony.

"Set me as a seal upon thine heart, as a seal upon thine arm: for love is strong as death." Jace gave her a small smile as he lifted her arm and set the stele to her skin. Clary barely felt the sting as he traced the rune of commitment onto her upper arm. Even in heels, she was so much shorter than he was.

Jace finished the rune, his deep breath ghosting across her skin and sending goose bumps up her arm. It made her feel more secure, knowing he was as nervous as she was. The rune of love went over her heart, and the slight burn brought her to attention.

Clary took the offered stele from Jia Penhallow. It wasn't often the Consul presided over the wedding ceremony, but she volunteered to do it almost immediately. She repeated the words. "Set me as a seal upon thine heart, as a seal upon thine arm: for love is strong as death."

Jace lifted his arm for her, and she could almost _feel _the power stirring in her veins. Her talent with runes had never faded, and her runes were going to be stronger than anyone's. Jace had said he didn't mind- that it was only right, considering how much he loved her. She finished the runes and the ceremony was complete.

"Clary Herondale." Jace breathed softly. "It has a ring to it, doesn't it?"

She grinned. Too ecstatic to argue as she used to, she brought his lips down over hers.

**This is not the end of Clary's dream! So, do I move on or stay in her dream for a while? Thanks for reading! :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**I am getting super excited about this. Please tell me everyone else is too!**

**Thanks for all of the follows, favorites and reviews!  
**

**liveandbreathediangelo: Yep, that's what I'm going to do! Thanks for the suggestion. I'm really glad you like it!**

**mortalinstrumentsfangirl: Who knew a one-word review could be so awesome? **

**Guest: Thank you! I actually shrieked a little when I read your review :). I will continue! **

**IridescentxPetals: That's ok! Thank you for reading it. And here you are, Simon's dream.**

**LOVEGIRL: Updated!**

Simon stood at the window, taking in the view of the city of Manhattan.

It was an impressive sight. From the penthouse floor of the Carolina, you could see across Central Park, to the Met museum, to the high-rises of downtown. Night was falling, and the city lights were beginning to shine out one by one, a bed of electric flowers.

_Electric flowers_. He looked around, frowning thoughtfully. It was a nice turn of phrase; perhaps he should write it down. He never seemed to have time these days to really work on lyrics; time was swallowed up by other things: promotion, touring, signings, appearances. It was hard to remember sometimes that his main job was making music.

Still. A good problem to have. The darkening sky turned the window to a mirror. Simon smiled at his reflection in the glass. Tousled hair, jeans, vintage T- shirt; he could see the room behind him, vast acres of hardwood floor, gleaming steel, and leather furniture, a single elegant gold-framed painting on the wall. A Chagall- Clary's favorite, all soft roses and blues and greens, incongruous against the apartment's modernity.

There was a vase of hydrangeas on the kitchen island, a gift from his mother, congratulating him on playing a gig with Stepping Razor the week before. I love you, said the note attached. I'm proud of you.

He blinked at it. Hydrangeas; that was odd. If he had a favorite flower, it was roses, and his mother knew that. He turned away from the window and looked more closely at the vase. They were roses. He shook his head to clear it. White roses. They always had been. Right.

He heard the rattle of keys, and the door swung open, admitting a petite girl with long red hair and a brilliant smile. "Oh, my God," said Clary, half-laughing, half out of breath. She pushed the door shut behind her and leaned against it. "The lobby is a zoo. Press, photographers; it's going to be crazy going out tonight."

She came across the room, dropping her keys on the table. She was wearing a long dress, yellow silk printed with colorful butterflies, and a butterfly clip in her long red hair. She looked warm and open and loving, and as she neared him, she put her arms up, and he went to kiss her.

Just like he did every day when she came home.

She smelled like Clary, perfume and chalk, and her fingers were smudged with color. She wound her fingers in his hair as they kissed, tugging him down, laughing against his mouth as he nearly overbalanced.

"You're going to have to start wearing heels, Fray," he said, lips against her cheek.

"I hate heels. You'll either have to deal or buy me a portable ladder," she said, letting him go. "Unless you want to leave me for a really tall groupie."

"Never," he said, tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear. "Would a really tall groupie know all my favorite foods? Remember when I had a bed shaped like a racecar? Know how to beat me mercilessly at Scrabble? Be willing to put up with Matt and Kirk and Eric?"

"A groupie would more than put up with Matt and Kirk and Eric."

"Be nice," he said, and grinned down at her. "You're stuck with me."

"I'll survive," she said, plucking his glasses off and setting them on the table. The eyes she turned up to him were dark and wide. This time the kiss was more heated. He wound his arms around her, pulling her against him as she whispered, "I love you; I've always loved you."

"I love you too," Simon said. He leaned down again and brushed his lips against hers for the third time, running his hands through her long red hair as he did so. The butterfly clip was gently removed and tossed aside, and Clary's small hands made their way around his shoulders, trailing down to his stomach, slipping under the material of his shirt. He shivered. There was never a time that she couldn't bring goose bumps to his skin with nothing more than a touch. Even back in high school, she would drop her pencil, and he would hand it back to her, the touch of their hands lingering for just a little bit longer than necessary and sending those same goose bumps up his arm. She pulled away, breathless and smiling. "If we're going to go out now, I've got to do something about my hair."

Simon glanced at her hair and then the clock. 6:43. They were meant to be meeting the driver at 6:45.

"Think you can get ready in two minutes? You've got to be kidding." He teased.

"Come on, Lewis, I can dress faster than you any day." She called over her shoulder, picking her butterfly clip up from the floor and running to the bathroom. Simon returned to the window, looking out at the lights of the city. He was sure that the other million people going about their lives didn't care much about him, but it didn't matter. They couldn't even begin to imagine the amount of happiness that swelled up inside of him, making him feel like a helium balloon that could quite easily float quietly off into the dark sky.

* * *

The elevator doors opened with a ding, and Simon was nearly blinded by the bright flash of cameras in the lobby. He stepped out, Clary's hand clasped firmly in his. Running across the lobby with his arm up to shield his eyes from the light and his heart pumping as it always did, he heard snatches of yelled questions. "Mr. Lewis, when will you next be…" "Simon, what's the plan for…" "Hey, who are you with tonight?" He rolled his eyes at the last one. Anyone who didn't know that he and Clary had been going out since high school was an idiot. Although, most of the press sure did _seem _to be idiots. They asked the most obviousquestions.

The cool air hit his face as the doors opened automatically for him and he brought his arm down. He brought his coat more tightly around him as the night air began to make its way through the light material. Looking down at Clary, he saw her face was flushed almost the same colour as her hair. "Everything alright?" he asked, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

"Yeah, fine. Just a bit cold." She replied as the sleek black car pulled up beside them. The press hadn't bothered following them outside- they knew it was fruitless. Simon reached down and pulled the door open smoothly for her. Clary turned and grinned at him as she got into the car. "The epitome of a gentleman."

He smirked back, putting on an English accent. "But of course, madam." He fell into the car beside her ungracefully and pulled the door shut as it took off into the shining night.

* * *

His palms were sweating with nerves as they sat down to dinner. He'd managed to keep it cool for most of the night, but now the enormity of what he was going to do flooded him and he struggled to keep it from taking over his mind. Clary noticed, of course.

"What's wrong?" she asked concernedly, tugging on his arm across the table.

Simon started to stutter across an answer, and then stopped. This was what he wanted to do. And it was going to be fine. This was _Clary_. She was as familiar to him as himself, and she knew him better than anyone else. He smiled, more at ease. "Nothing." Seeing the doubtful she cast him, he went to reassure her. "Really, it's nothing."

"Your menus." An accented waiter handed them both the leather bound copies. Simon thanked him distractedly.

The food tasted like mush in his mouth, but Clary never once had to shake him to attention. They chatted and laughed easily, normal as a regular night. It was familiar- how many nights had there been like this? Dessert arrived, and his heart sped up with apprehension.

"Clary…" his mouth was dry. She looked at him expectantly as he took a sip of his drink. "I love you. You know that. From when I was six, all I wanted to do was make you happy. And here I am, fifteen years later, still wanting do just that."

"You have," Clary whispered. "But what is this about, Simon?"

He left her question and asked one of his own. "I know we're young… but will you…" he watched her green eyes widen. "…marry me?"

Something flashed in her eyes. Something wrong. "But what about Jace?" she mumbled. "And Isabelle?" She turned to him with a horrified expression. "Did you hear that?"

He nodded, and then shook his head in confusion.

He saw Clary's reflection in the window they were sitting next to. The cold it was giving off seemed to intensify while her form warped and changed, turning into something dark with glittering yellow eyes. "_Sleep._" She hissed in a voice that was definitely not the Clary he knew. "_And when you wake, you will not remember this."_

Simon felt a wave of dizziness wash over him, and he looked into Clary's normal face across from him. The tables and chairs around him disappeared and were replaced with the furniture of his apartment. He felt the soft covers of his bed beneath him, and as much as he wanted to, it was impossible to resist the pull of sleep. The last image stayed with him though, like something from a nightmare. That dark reflection, with the glittering yellow eyes. He tried to remember, remember the way the voice had penetrated his mind and commanded his attention, but even as he fell into the gaping yawn of deep sleep, he felt the memory slipping away from him. Like water draining from a basin, the memory slipped further and further away, until Simon could no longer recall what had him so worried.

**Tell me who's dream you want next! ****Hope you liked it and if you were confused about the last few paragraph, all will be revealed in a few chapters. **


	3. Chapter 3

**Most of you asked for Isabelle's dream next, so here it is!**

**liveandbreathediangelo: Thanks! Yeah, I agree- I think I'll just do it in the same order as the book now.**

**Guest: Sorry! But Alec's will be next, so watch out for that one**

**Iridescent Petals: It will be explained in the chapter after this one. Thank you! (But I can clear a little bit up now- it _wasn't _the real Clary, however, it was someone else...)**

**TheShrekingGirl: Cool! And thank you :) **

**Disclaimer: A bit of this chapter is not my writing, and the characters do not belong to me!**

"Don't look, don't look . . ."

Isabelle laughed. "I'm not looking." There were hands over her eyes: Simon's hands, slim and flexible. His arms were around her, and they were shuffling forward together, laughing. He'd grabbed her the moment she'd walked in the front door, wrapping his arms around her as her shopping bags dropped from her hands.

"I have a surprise for you," he'd said, grinning. "Close your eyes. No looking. No, really. I'm not kidding."

"I hate surprises," Isabelle protested now. "You know that." She could just see the edge of the rug under Simon's hands. She'd picked it out herself, and it was thick, bright pink, and fuzzy. Their apartment was small and cozy, a hodgepodge of Isabelle and Simon: guitars and katanas, vintage posters and hot-pink bedspreads. Simon had brought his cat, Yossarian, when they'd moved in together, which Isabelle had protested but secretly liked: She'd missed Church after she'd left the Institute.

The pink rug vanished, and now Isabelle's heels clicked onto the tile floor of the kitchen. "Okay," Simon said, and withdrew his hands. "Surprise!"

"Surprise!" The kitchen was full of people: her mother and father, Jace and Alec and Max, Clary and Jordan and Maia, Kirk and Matt and Eric. Magnus was holding a silver sparkler and winking, waving it back and forth as the sparkles flew everywhere, landing on the stone counters and Jace's T-shirt, making him yelp. Clary was holding a clumsily lettered sign: HAPPY BIRTHDAY, ISABELLE. She held it up and waved.

Isabelle whirled on Simon accusingly. "You planned this!"

"Of course I did," he said, pulling her toward him. "Shadowhunters might not care about birthdays, but I do." He kissed her ear, murmuring, "You should have everything, Izzy," before he let her go, and her family descended.

There was a whirl of hugs, of presents and cake-baked by Eric, who actually had something of a flair for pastry creation, and decorated by Magnus with luminous frosting that tasted better than it looked. Robert had his arms around Maryse, who was leaning back against him, looking on proudly and contentedly as Magnus, one hand ruffling Alec's hair, tried to convince Max to put on a party hat. Max, with all the self-possession of a nine- year-old, was having none of it. He waved away Magnus's hand impatiently and said, "Izzy, I made the sign. Did you see the sign?"

Izzy glanced over at the hand-lettered sign, now liberally smeared with frosting, on the table. Clary winked at her. "It's awesome, Max; thank you."

"I was going to put what birthday it was on the sign," he said, "but Jace said that after twenty, you're just old, so it doesn't matter anyway."

Jace stopped with his fork halfway to his mouth. "I said that?"

"Way to make us all feel ancient," said Simon, pushing his hair back to smile at Isabelle. She felt a little twist of pain inside her chest-she loved him that much, for doing this for her, for always thinking of her. She couldn't remember a time when she hadn't loved him or trusted him, and he'd never given her a reason not to do either.

Isabelle slid off the stool she'd been sitting on, and knelt down in front of her little brother. She could see their reflection in the steel of the refrigerator: her own dark hair, cut to her shoulders now-she remembered vaguely years ago, when her hair had reached her waist-and Max's brown curls and glasses. "How's your training been going?"

He smiled widely. "It's your birthday, Izzy. Let's eat some cake instead." Laughing, she let him pull her to the table and hand her some cake smothered in glittery frosting. She looked across to Simon, who was watching her with the same love she felt mirrored in his dark eyes. He crossed the kitchen, taking a bite of her cake as he enfolded her in his arms again. "I wish your parents weren't here." He whispered to her quietly.

"What about everyone else?" she giggled. Isabelle Lightwood reduced to giggles by a _boy._ She never thought she could be happy with someone like this.

"I don't care about making out in front of them. Well," he added after a moments thought. "Maybe Alec would get his bow and arrow out, so he would have to go, too."

She punched him playfully as he took another bite of her cake. "Ow." He said reproachfully, rubbing his arm. "You pack a punch."

Isabelle pulled out of his arms and smirked at him as she walked to her adopted brother and Clary. "Hey, guys. I assume you knew about the party?"

"That we did." Jace said, Clary's hand coming down over his mouth just a moment too late. "What?" he protested from behind her fingers. A moment later, she ripped her hand away and wiped it on his shirt. "Jace Herondale, you are disgusting."

"Oh, please." Isabelle said, amused. "Like you haven't had his spit on you before.

"Iz!" Clary blushed slightly, her glare looking as threatening as a puppy's.

She shrugged unapologetically. "So, what have you guys been getting up to? Besides the obvious." She glanced at them suggestively. It was just too much fun to tease Clary- besides, the other girl knew it was all in good humor.

"Alright, that's it." Clary grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest. She squared her shoulders in an effort to make herself look bigger. "If you guys continue to make all these innuendos, I'm leaving." _You guys? _Isabelle looked to Jace, who wore a proud smirk that positively oozed satisfaction. He bent down to whisper something into Clary's ear, and she decided to just leave them to it. Hopefully, Alec and Magnus were going to be better company- although that might be too much to ask from those two. Her parents intercepted her, Maryse giving her a quick hug, Robert with an awkward, but genuine 'happy birthday'. Max's excitement at the novelty was wearing off, and his eyes were beginning to droop. Birthdays weren't really a Shadowhunter custom, and for some reason, she felt a lick of apprehension at seeing her parents together. But why? It was totally normal for them to be together- if they weren't it would feel strange. That was the way it always had been.

Isabelle shook her head to clear it. Something felt a bit− _off_ tonight. She put it down to the strange custom. This was her first proper birthday party.

Maryse pulled her out of her daze. "We'd better get going. Can't leave Kadir to remain at the Institute all night- we just wanted to be here for you. See you later."

Isabelle saw them to the door, murmuring goodbyes and thanks. As soon as the door closed behind them, Magnus and Alec came over to her. It felt incredibly normal… but why? Why did they have to wait for her parents to leave? They were Alec's parents, too.

"….so I thought you might like it anyway." Alec looked at her expectantly. She slipped into an answer quickly. "Yeah, I think I will. What's been happening with you guys?" Maybe that was a little too hurried- Magnus and Alec shared a look.

"Isabelle, what do you think you'll do with your present?" Magnus smirked at her. He knew she hadn't been listening. Of course. The warlock with hundreds of years of experience _would _know when someone wasn't paying attention.

"Ah, I'll… keep it in the apartment." She offered. That was a pretty reasonable guess.

Magnus raised an eyebrow. "Do you think Simon will be happy with that?"

Well, that one was easy.

"Simon does whatever I tell him to. He _has _to be happy with that."

Alec glanced between them, obviously aware that something was going on, but unsure of what that something actually was. Magnus obviously wasn't backing down, but Isabelle thought it would be best to keep the peace on her birthday. She changed the subject and talked easily to them for a while. Chairman Meow was going well and hadn't run away recently. If Magnus tried to keep throwing Isabelle parties and she had no control over it, she would probably run away, too.

Eric and his latest girlfriend stopped by to say happy birthday and left, as well as Matt and Kirk. Isabelle was just happy she didn't have to make nice with the mundanes anymore, even if they were Simon's friends.

The party dwindled after she had spoken to everyone, leaving only Alec, Magnus and Simon. It was obvious that Simon just wanted the others to leave- only up to a certain point could he handle being in a crowd- but he was trying not to show it. He knew since she'd moved out of the Institute, Isabelle had missed living with her brothers. But what he didn't seem to realize was that she loved living with him.

After about an hour or so, Alec let out a huge yawn. It was nearly midnight by then, and she felt a tiny bit guilty for keeping them so late. But only a tiny bit. They could have left whenever they wanted to, couldn't they? Magnus seemed to be having a great time ordering Simon around, calling him a different name each time. "Sheldon," he would say with a lazy smile, "could I have a refill?" Then, to complete the routine, he would waggle his empty cup at Simon, who had usually _just _sat back down. Isabelle wasn't sure where all of that drink was going, but there was no way he could have drunk that much and not be tipsy by now.

After the third or fourth time, she noticed Magnus sending her urgent glances. '_We need to talk', _they seemed to say. Never boring, Magnus altered his little charade: "Shanely, I am having the most urgent craving for pineapple." Or: "Steven, I am in desperate need of a computer- I have to show Facebook to Alec and Isabelle."

As Simon went, fuming, to complete the last request, Magnus pulled her in. All trace of joking was gone from his gold-green eyes. "Isabelle," he said softly, directly. "This is not real."

"What?" her mind went into overdrive. So many things she wanted to say, but all that came out was; "What?"

Simon was coming down the short hallway from their bedroom noisily. "My apartment. Tomorrow." He pulled back next to Alec, who apparently found not one thing strange about what had just transpired. Isabelle stared at him. Since when did her brother just sit back and not question something that was clearly out of the ordinary? He was a _Shadowhunter_- he was trained to question everything. And by the angel, what had Magnus meant?

Something told her not to share this with Simon. She glanced at him, and then at Magnus, and warning glowed in his eyes, confirming her strange feeling. When was the last time there had been a secret between them? Isabelle loved him, and he loved her. That was just how it was, and she felt secure and undeniably happy. But tugging at the edge of her peace was the strange belief that something wasn't right that had been bothering her all night. Something was disturbing her relaxed night, and she was determined to find out what it was so it could crushed once and for all. She settled into the comfortable sofa, feeling the warmth of Simon's arm around her, and listening the soft laughter resounding around her. She looked at Simon. His dark eyes gazed back at her after a moment, somehow inscrutable. Isabelle was too sleepy to ponder the fact the she could _always _read Simon's emotions without a doubt, but she let the fact wash over her along with the dim lights and undemanding voices.

**So... what does Magnus's mysterious message mean? **

**Did you like it? Improvements? Please let me know!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Oh my gosh! I am so dumb sometimes... so this is the REAL chapter 4. The one that I originally posted as chapter 4 is actually chapter 5. But I'll take this as an oppurtunity to thank my followers, favoriters (surely there's a better word?), and reviewers: IridescentxPetals and liveandbreathediangelo. Your reviews really brightened up my day!**

The Hall of Accords was hung with blue banners, each gilded with the flame blazon of the Lightwood family. Four long tables had been arranged facing one another. In the center was a raised speaker's lectern, decked with swords and flowers.

Alec sat at the longest table, in the highest of the chairs. On his left was Magnus, and on his right his family stretched out beside him: Isabelle and Max; Robert and Maryse; Jace; and beside Jace, Clary. There were Lightwood cousins there too, some of whom he hadn't seen since he'd been a child; all of them were beaming with pride, but no face glowed as brightly as his father's.

"My son," he kept saying, to anyone who would listen-he had buttonholed the Consul now, who'd been passing by their table with a glass of wine in hand. "My son won the battle; that's my son up there. Lightwood blood will tell; our family have always been fighters."

The Consul laughed. "Save it for the speech, Robert," she said, winking at Alec over the rim of her glass.

"Oh, God, the speech," Alec said, in horror, hiding his face in his hands.

Magnus rubbed his knuckles gently across Alec's spine, as if he were petting a cat. Jace looked over at them, and raised his eyebrows.

"As if we all haven't been in a room full of people telling us how amazing we are before," he said, and when Alec glared at him sideways, he grinned. "Ah, just me, then."

"Leave my boyfriend alone," Magnus said. "I know spells that could turn your ears inside out."

Jace touched his ears worriedly as Robert rose to his feet, his chair scraping backward, and tapped the side of his fork against his glass. The sound rang out in the room, and the Shadowhunters fell silent, looking up toward the Lightwood table expectantly.

"We gather here today," said Robert, reaching out his arms expansively, "to honor my son, Alexander Gideon Lightwood, who has single-handedly destroyed the forces of the Endarkened and who defeated in battle the son of Valentine Morgenstern. Alec saved the life of our third son, Max. Along with his parabatai, Jace Herondale, I am proud to say that my son is one of the greatest warriors I have ever known." He turned and smiled at Alec and Magnus. "It takes more than a strong arm to make a great warrior," he went on. "It takes a great mind and a great heart. My son has both. He is strong in courage, and strong in love. Which is why I also wanted to share our other good news with you. As of yesterday, my son became engaged to be married to his partner, Magnus Bane-"

A chorus of cheers broke out. Magnus accepted them with a modest wave of his fork. Alec slid down in his chair, his cheeks burning. Jace looked at him meditatively.

"Congratulations," he said. "I kind of feel like I missed an opportunity."

"W-what?" Alec stammered.

Jace shrugged. "I always knew you had a crush on me, and I kind of had a crush on you, too. I thought you should know."

"What?" Alec said again.

Clary sat up straight. "You know," she said, "do you think there's any chance that you two could . . ." She gestured between Jace and Alec. "It would be kind of hot."

"No," Magnus said. "I am a very jealous warlock."

" We're parabatai," Alec said, regaining his voice. "The Clave would-I mean-it's illegal."

"Oh, come on," said Jace. "The Clave would let you do anything you wanted. Look, everyone loves you." He gestured out at the room full of Shadowhunters. They were all cheering as Robert spoke, some of them wiping away tears. A girl at one of the smaller tables held up a sign that said, ALEC LIGHTWOOD, WE LOVE YOU.

"I think you should have a winter wedding," said Isabelle, looking longingly at the white floral centerpiece. "Nothing too big. Five or six hundred people."

"Isabelle," Alec croaked.

She shrugged. "You have a lot of fans."

Alec sighed. Once Isabelle had her mind set on something, there was no changing it. And with Magnus… well, he could only hope that his suit was not going to be decked out with sparkles. It seemed that the speech was over- thank Raziel- and everyone had taken it as their cue to come over and congratulate him. The Consul came first.

"Well done, Alec. I always thought that you would make something amazing of yourself, and here we are…" He nodded seriously, trying to hide the faint blush in his cheeks. He wondered how it was going to be possible to get through the banquet. "So, thank you, for saving us all. I don't know how we could do without you." Consul Penhallow patted him on the back on left to go and speak to Maryse. He could hear his mother's cool tones from here, as well as some of her words. "Couldn't be more proud… the family agrees… can't wait for the wedding."

The steady stream of people didn't cease, and by the time it was over, Alec thought he had spoken to every single person in Idris. Slowly, everyone began to fill out the doors, making their way home as the sun had long since gone down and the witchlight lamps were glowing at full strength. The demon towers had been flashing blue all night, and every time Alec saw them, he repeated the rhyme in his head. _Blue banners when the lost return. _

_I did that. I helped the lost return. _

It was an amazing feeling.

"Let's get out of here." Magnus whispered into his ear, his lips brushing against Alec's skin and making him crave more. They started to follow the others to the Inquisitor's house- Robert's job had its perks- when Consul Penhallow stopped them again. "We have another surprise for you." She said, sweeping back some of her dark hair. "Since you did such a great service to the Nephilim, you have been given usage of the Branwell country manor for the term of your stay."

"I couldn't –"

"They left straight after the banquet. They needed to attend to business outside of Idris."

Alec hesitated. It would be nice to have the his own place for a while…

"I'm sure he'd rather stay with me." Robert interrupted his thoughts. "We're a tight-knit family." He looked at his father in confusion. However proud of his achievements, he wouldn't usually use the words 'tight-knit' to describe their family. Alec certainly didn't. Barely any Shadowhunter family was- parents were _respected,_ and siblings were in competition of Shadowhunting skills for most of the time. Robert met his gaze unflinchingly, his black eyes resolute.

Alec stared into those eyes. The black ones. _But weren't they another colour… green, or something like it? Blue? _

Another thought crashed into his head, drowning out the other. _How could you forget your father's eyes? They've always been dark- where else would Iz get her own dark eyes? _

He had missed half of the Consul's sentence, and didn't bother listening to the rest. Although he wanted to, a bout of dizziness claimed him, spinning the room on its axis. He felt his skin blanch, a cool hand on his arm. "Alexander?" Gold-green eyes hovered above his. He tried to hang on to them, like a person drowning would hold onto a plank of wood, resolutely fighting the vertigo.

* * *

"And as suddenly as it came over me, it just _went. _It was so strange- nothing's happened like it, before you ask."

Isabelle paused, her mouth open with that question surely about to come out. It was silent for a few moments. Alec sat with his back against the wall behind his bed at the Inquisitor's house. Everyone else was scattered around him- Magnus next to him, Jace at the end of the bed, Clary and Izzy on the floor, leaning against the opposite-Jace's- bed. It wasn't as familiar to him as his room back at the Institute, but it was close enough.

"Can we go somewhere to talk?" Magnus was obviously on edge about something, and his abrupt manner was nothing like his usual charm as he directed the question at Alec.

"Um, sure." He led the way out of the room, among exchanged smirks from Isabelle, Jace and Clary. He knew that they thought they were going off to make out, but he had a feeling that it just wasn't going to happen. He stopped a little way down the hall, near to the sitting room. Magnus glanced around. "Maybe we could go to the warlock representative's place?" Alec nodded, rethinking his previous assumptions. They let themselves out of the house and wound their way along the bridges crossing the canals and quiet, house-lined streets. He wasn't taking much in as Magnus pulled him down towards the house, simply blowing the door open with magic and closing it behind them again. Alec nearly tripped in the sudden darkness, stumbling into a wall. Magnus's smirk was bright in the gloom. "And they say you Shadowhunters are graceful."

He spluttered, trying to come up with a smart remark. His boyfriend- fiancée- saved him the trouble. He pulled him into a long kiss, and Alec savored the feeling.

Too soon, Magnus pulled away. "Believe it or not, this isn't what I wanted to talk you about."

Alec noted the serious undertone in his voice, trying not to get too worried. Everything had to be fine. Everything _was _fine. He took a deep breath.

"This isn't real."

He looked at Magnus, shocked. The suggestion was completely ludicrous. Although…. The probability of Magnus being wrong was very low. And if he wasn't sure of something, then why would he say it? He was nothing if not well considered, and hundreds of years of experience rarely yielded wrong conclusions.

Magnus went on. "Your father? He's not really here. But the demon controlling your dream is, and its using your father's shape. Generally, it would want someone closer to you so it could keep you from discovering the truth, but it can't take my form- well, it could, but it would be extremely difficult. Memory and mind are my specialty, if I do say so myself."

Alec stared at him, but the thing slipping from his mouth was not what he expected. "Modest, aren't you?"

Magnus shrugged. "Modesty is overrated. But that's not really what you want to ask, is it, Alexander." His words were a question, but his tone was not.

"So nothing is real. I didn't kill Sebastian, I didn't destroy the Endarkened…" he trailed off and forced back the ice in his chest. "Max isn't alive." He said in a near-whisper. "We're not engaged. My father-" he broke off once again, not able to bear continuing.

Magnus's hand brushed his face. "If only our hearts could be protected as our minds can be." He murmured.

Alec knew what he meant. An icy fist seemed to have closed around his heart. The pain of losing Max, of losing Magnus, was brought once again to the surface of his mind. "Can you get us out of here?" Alec asked, pushing past the tightness in his throat.

Magnus's eyes were sad. "The others aren't here- it's only us. And since it's not my dream, I can't push both of us out of it. That's up to you."

Alec hesitated. "I'm not sure I can do that."

"One more thing you should know. The demon has allowed me to be present in Isabelle's dream, but in no others. Clary, Simon and Jace- I can't reach them."

He focused on the part of that he could handle. So Isabelle wasn't in danger. A good start. "Why, though?"

"I guess if Isabelle thought about why you were alone, and she realized something wasn't right, she would be able to use the sense of wrongness to break free of the delusion. It feeds on the dreams and wishes of humans, and every second you're in here, it grows stronger."

Alec sunk down against the wall. He looked up at Magnus, who was terribly pale under his tan skin. "I'm sorry to be the bearer of such bad news." He murmured as he sank down and ran the backs of his fingers down the side of Alec's face. "Alexander, I will do everything in my power to help you."

He leaned into Magnus, not caring that he wasn't really supposed to do that anymore.

Although… Alec remembered the dryness of his throat, his wildly pounding heart when he had asked whether forgiveness was even an option._ I _have_ forgiven you. _He was tired of going without Magnus, and he didn't seem to be complaining, either.

"I told your sister to come to my loft tomorrow. I don't know how anyone multitasks, it's too stressful."

Alec sat up, confused. "What?"

Magnus still looked drawn-out and preoccupied. "I'm not only here. I'm also in _her _dream. It's sad, being with you, but not you and Sheldon as a demon is creepy." The remnants of his relaxation drained out of him, slipping away swiftly as a fish in water.

"_Simon? _Simon is the demon." Numbness spread throughout his body. "If that demon even _touches _her, it will regret it for the rest of its very short, worthless life. And Clary? Is Jace the demon?"

Magnus attempted to rub the tension out of Alec's shoulders. "I'm keeping an eye on them. Don't worry. And since Jace is a Shadowhunter with extra angel blood, the demon would find it incredibly difficult to get past his angelic protection." He breathed a deep sigh. "And this is very tiring, so I'm going to fall asleep in a few minutes."

Alec couldn't bring himself to worry about going home. It was completely fake anyway, so why did it matter what he did? But worry about his family he did. He even spared a moment for Clary and Simon. If something happened to them, his siblings would be devastated. And he wasn't sure he could handle it. Hiding and lying, all the while trying to escape _and _help the others, too. Alec was beginning to feel exhausted himself. With all the new information swimming in circles around his head, he let himself tilt to the side and sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

**AAHH! The last few weeks have been crazy, and I SINCERELY apologise for not updating. Funny, I've written Chapter 6, but not Chapter 5, so I don't know how that's going to work...**

**Disclaimer: I don't own any characters and/or certain concepts.**

Clary woke up to Jace's warm arm circling her waist. She turned over, meeting a pair of golden eyes, luminous in the mid-morning sunlight filtering in through the curtains. She yawned lazily, rubbing her eyes. "Have you been watching me while I sleep?" She joked.

He smiled the smile that reminded her of the lion, but a lazy one. "Guilty as charged."

"And no sarcastic comeback? Marriage has already mellowed you."

Jace dug an elbow in into her side, making her squeak. "However much you may enjoy it, being sarcastic and witty is _my _job."

Clary rolled her eyes and went to slip out of bed, but his arm tightened around her. "Where do you think you're going?" He murmured to the back of her neck, sending shivers up and down her arms. She tried to keep her voice as even as possible as she replied. "Uh- to have a shower?" Obviously, she didn't quite succeed. She felt his cocky smirk against her skin.

"I don't think so."

* * *

As Clary walked down the cool wood stairs, she could smell something delectable wafting to her from the kitchen. Jace was standing at the stove, flipping something in the pan, his hair messy and slightly damp, sticking to the back of his neck slightly. "Who's staring now?" He asked without turning around. She smiled slightly, going to the bench to pour herself a cup of coffee, but he stopped her, pointing at the perfectly set table with full cups. "Don't thank me- I think Isabelle must have sent someone over to clean up the place."

Clary laughed- just like Isabelle. She'd wanted to plan the entire thing, but Jace put a stop to that very quickly. "The last thing I want," he'd complained, "is to be walking around in a gold suit instead of gear the whole day."

She returned to the present as Jace pulled her over to the table with his arms full of food. Digging into her pancakes, she struck up a normal conversation, chatting idly as they normally did.

A knock at the door interrupted their conversation. Clary picked herself up to go and answer it, marveling quietly the whole way. Alec stood outside. "Hey, Alec." She said easily, her cheerfulness disappearing as she saw his expression. "What's wrong?"

"Isabelle." He managed to get out, deathly pale. Jace appeared behind her, shaken.

"What?"

* * *

Isabelle had been scratched by a demon, a deep, ugly cut that ran the length of lower leg. The runes weren't working, as they didn't sometimes in the case of demon poison. The Silent Brothers had been called for, but for some reason or another, they were taking a long time. Too long. Alec was furious, his face a dark red, which was a stark difference to the pale white he had been when he'd shown up at their front door.

"Call a warlock!" Jace demanded. His eyes flashed as he turned to the Shadowhunter in the corner of the room. Clary didn't know his name- she shot him an apologetic look as he nodded and scurried out of the room. _Probably wants to get away from the crazy family. _Maryse and Robert were there, as well as Jace and Alec. They were all frantic with worry, and Clary understood. She was going crazy, too.

A tall warlock strode in a few minutes later, his cat eyes standing out in his face. A messy tangle of black hair tumbled across his forehead. Although his presence was commanding, Clary got the feeling he was drained- his face was tired, but as he saw Alec, some colour came back into his face. She wondered why. He walked efficiently to Isabelle, not pausing to ask permission. Maryse muttered something about the impertinence of Downworlders.

"Drevak poison. Nothing too complicated." He seemed to say it mostly to himself, although the way he looked around the room made it clear he intended them to hear it. "I'm Magnus Bane, and while I'm working, everyone is to leave the room."

Clary was the only one not to break into protest. Magnus held up his hands. "Do you want her cured," He yelled over the din, "or not?"

Reluctantly, everyone filed out. He caught at her arm as she began to follow. "You can stay." He said, the intensity in his eyes burning into her. Jace looked at theme but kept walking. _Well, that was strange, _Clary thought confusedly. Usually, he wouldn't have left her alone with a stranger, no matter how worried he was about anyone else. He fixed Isabelle in seconds, waving a hand at her. A few cerulean sparks floated to her and danced around her leg and head. Instantly, colour began returning to her face. "She just needs to sleep it off now. So, down to business. Where's Simon?"

"Simon?" Who was this person behind the name that kept popping up?

Magnus sighed, a sigh that spoke of more than a regular exhaustion. He muttered. "Great, now I have to find him, too." Seeing her expression, he wiggled his fingers at her contemptuously. "I like you a lot better in real life. Go on, call the family in and talk about warlocks going crazy."

"_What?_"

"When you need me, fire-message me. I'll be here as soon as I can." With that, he rose and left, leaving Clary standing in the same spot she had been for the past few- very bizarre- minutes.

Isabelle woke up with a confused noise. "Clary? Why aren't you enjoying your honeymoon? Even if it's in Idris, that doesn't mean you and Jace should actually see us." She glanced down at her leg. "Ouch." Clary grinned, the strangeness slipping her mind. "We'll make you a deal. If you don't get poisoned by a demon again, Jace and I won't speak to you for the next few days."

Isabelle laughed, the bright ringing bringing the rest of her family in. "Done."

Clary let herself sink into the familiarity of the fussing and embellished explanations that was characteristic of Isabelle. And she pretended that the last sentence wasn't going to bother her for days on end. _When you need me, fire-message me. I'll be here as soon as I can._

**Please tell me what you thought! Simon's next chapter, so review to say what _you_ think should happen!  
**


	6. Chapter 6

**This is a super short (and I mean _really _short) filler chapter, even though it may not seem like it. Sorry about the length! But I figure the really long Alec chapter kind of makes up for it. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters and some of the ideas.**

"Simon!" A laughing voice pulled him out of his sleep. A strand of red hair tickled his nose as he complained, trying to go back to the comforting darkness. "Simon, you've been asleep for at least thirteen hours." He blinked, opening his eyes fully. "Really?"

Clary rolled her eyes. "Yes, really."

He winced. "And did I manage to hit my head on a telegraph pole at any point during that time? It's pounding." Clary got up and walked to the door.

"You're fine." She said simply. "Come on, I made breakfast for us."

Simon rolled out of bed, grinning, and walked towards the dining room. He looked out over the view of Manhattan, which was glittering in the sunlight. "I don't know how you could possibly think that you could tempt me into eating any of your cooking."

Clary frowned as she spooned scrambled eggs onto lightly browned toast. "You've never complained about my cooking before, Lewis." He shook his head.

"I wasn't… I wasn't talking about you." He mumbled in mystification.

* * *

They were at one of their favorite comic book stores on York Avenue. Simon wandered idly around, picking up a few random manga pieces, but nothing seemed to hold his attention today. The bell tinkled lightly as a new customer walked into the store. He looked up in surprise. Hardly anyone came into this store- it was a quiet place with pretty unconventional owners. The man looked familiar somehow, a far off memory. He raised his head to look straight at Simon, and he had to bite back a breath. They were an odd golden-green colour, and more startlingly, had slit pupils- a distinctively feline trait.

Between one moment and the next, the man flickered out of existence.

Simon scrambled backwards, his shoulders slamming roughly against the wall as he let out a yelp of pain. Clary darted around the corner, her eyes scanning the shop. "What happened?" He'd never heard her sound so severe before. He shook his head in bewilderment.

"I don't know. There was someone here, and then he just dissolved into thin air. I sound crazy." He observed sourly. "Let's just forget about it."

Clary wrapped an arm around his waist gingerly. "Okay. We can get this stuff and then go home, alright?"

He pondered his sanity while Clary was buying whatever it was that she had picked up. It wasn't _normal _to see cat-eyed men, and then not see them at all the next second, but it wasn't nearly as unsettling as it should have been. In fact, Simon felt more normal than he had in days.

**Has anyone noticed that we haven't heard from Jace yet? (Insert bad evil laugh here)**

**I have something planned, but I don't think you'll be expecting it...**


	7. Chapter 7

**Next chapter! I actually have no idea how long this story's going to be, but I'm estimating around 15-20 chapters.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters. They belong to Cassandra Clare.**

**Thanks for all of the reviews and followers and favoriters!**

**There were a few Guests that made my day! One Guest- I really wish I knew who to thank- who wrote about how my writing meds right into Cassie's, thank you! EvanSol0919: Sorry, you might have to wait a few more chapters :)**

Isabelle woke without the normal comforting warmth of Simon curled against her.

For a moment, she looked at his lazy form across the bed. Why the distance? She couldn't help but remember the odd glances Magnus and Simon had been throwing each other all night at her party. And Magnus. He couldn't have been acting more strangely if he tried- asking her to come to his apartment and _not to tell anyone_, purposely annoying Simon (not that he didn't do that normally, but he had been going out of his way). It was more than enough to make Isabelle question why she was considering getting out of her soft, warm bed to trek all the way to Brooklyn.

With a sigh, she pulled herself out of bed and ambled to the closet. She heard Simon roll over.

"Where are you going, Iz?" His tone should have been full of the remnants of sleep, but it was sharp and full of possessiveness. She turned to look at him abruptly. Immediately, his face smoothed over into something more typical, but there was still a trace of the hard demand in his expression. She spun back towards her clothes as if that was all that was on her mind, but something needled at her. The way Simon spoke to her- he hadn't _ever _spoken to her like that before.

"So, where _are_ you going?" He repeated, but this time more softly. She didn't face him, considering the stark white top with dark jeans.

"Just out shopping." She lied, some instinct keeping her from telling him exactly where she was headed. Besides, it probably wasn't going to be a lie. They had the some amazing vintage stores in Brooklyn.

"Mind if I join you?" Simon had come to stand behind her- funny. She hadn't heard anything, and her Shadowhunter ears were finely tuned. She dressed, giving him a flippant smile.

"Oh, Si, thanks for the offer, but I know you'd prefer to be with Eric and your friends." She wrinkled her nose distastefully. "I was sure I heard him mentioning plans last night."

Simon nodded reluctantly. He slipped into his own clothes silently and walked down the narrow hallway to the kitchen.

Isabelle sat at her dresser and started to do her makeup, letting the familiarity wash over her. There was _something-_ something that she kept trying to grasp as it slipped further and further from her reach.

* * *

The cold wind whistled through Magnus' street, cutting through Isabelle's soft coat and her _thermis _rune. She drew her jacket more tightly around her, watching as the red-gold leaves blew by. Even the flashes of colour couldn't lighten her mood- it seemed to be permanently set on negative. She stepped gratefully into the entryway and pressed the buzzer, waiting for an answer. A familiar voice crackled out from the speaker. "Hello?"

"Hi, Alec."

The bell sounded, signifying Isabelle's approved entry and she laughed to herself as she slipped into the elevator. Of course Alec would be here. She shouldn't have expected anything else.

The door opened, revealing her brother and admitting a rush of warm air. "Well?" She asked. "Are you going to let me in, or watch me turn into an icicle out here?" Alec smiled, and allowed her inside.

"What brings you here?" He inquired once she had a hot cup of coffee in her hands and was seated on one of the many comfy lounges.

"Oh, this and that." She said airily. "I just couldn't stay away from you and Magnus."

A door opened somewhere in the apartment and Magnus tumbled through the door, a mess of crazy hair and canary yellow pajamas. Isabelle raised an eyebrow. She'd rarely seen him less than presentable, if ever. He misinterpreted her quizzical expression- or more likely, ignored it- with a careless flip of his hand. Alec rose and pushed another coffee cup into his hand. Mumbled thanks were faint as Magnus flopped beside her. She'd never seen him so pale and drawn-out. After shooing Alec and his worried expression away, she cleared her throat.

"You asked to see me?" She said delicately. He obviously didn't want help or questions, so she left them for the moment. Many years of living with Jace meant she knew when to leave something well alone, and so did Alec, he just didn't care. Magnus murmured incomprehensibly into hid mug. He looked at up and met Alec's eyes briefly.

Alec nodded and got up to do something or other. Isabelle wasn't focused on him at the moment, because as soon as he was out of earshot, Magnus turned to her. None of the tiredness left his face as the urgency chased it across his lilting features.

"Isabelle. I need you to stay here for a little bit."

She was a bit puzzled, but agreed readily enough. "Sure. How long? And why?"

He sighed. "I don't know if you quite understand. I need you stay here for… let's say, a week?"

She was usually pretty good at keeping her face blank, but this time she couldn't stop her expression wiped clean of anything but surprise. He looked at her face and sighed again, more heavily. "You won't just do this, will you?"

Isabelle shook her head. "If you want me to stay here for a week, you better give me a damn good reason." She met his cat eyes with her own steady gaze, which was usually just the right amount of penetrating and firmness to make people crack.

But Magnus was a…. three hundred- Magnus was centuries old. An underage Nephilim's scrutiny was certainly not going to be a fright to him. He met her gaze without flinching.

"Isabelle... you can't tell anyone what I'm about to tell you. Yes?" She wavered, not liking the instruction. "Please?" Magnus added.

She nodded. If Magnus was pleading, it was important. "Go ahead, then."

He rubbed a hand over his face. "I wish your brother was still alive." He said softly. "I'm so sorry. But he's not, and this isn't real."

Alec was… what? "Alec!" She yelled. "ALEC!"

He ran into the room out of breath, black hair tumbling all over the place. Isabelle's brain struggled to keep up with the events. If not Alec then… "Max." She whispered, tears filling her eyes. She pushed the balls of palms against her closed eyes roughly. In the distance she heard Alec's panicked questions and Magnus's reassuring answers.

He convinced Alec to leave. Of course this was all fake. Something was terribly, terribly wrong. Isabelle pulled herself together once she felt the heavy weight of Magnus's pitying stare rest on her.

"So, what, this is some dream I've conjured up?" She asked unevenly. Magnus hesitated. She obviously wasn't okay, but she made an impatient gesture for him to continue. Respect glittered in his eyes.

"Not exactly. There's a demon controlling this- dream, as you call it. The demon is appearing to you as Sherman."

An icy shock went through Isabelle, and she completely ignored the wrong name. The cool tone, the distance- none of it was right, and none of his gestures screamed Simon like they usually did. How had she not questioned it before?

"So, that's why you need to stay at my place." Magnus sounded finished. But Isabelle was far from done. She could feel her cheeks flushing with anger.

"How are we all meant to get out of here? Is that why Alec's staying here, too?" Before the words were even completely out of her mouth, she saw Magnus readying himself to deliver another hard truth. But at least she knew he wouldn't lie.

"There's no one with their own mind here but you and I. Alec, Jace… all of the others are stuck in their own alternate realities."

Isabelle steeled herself. "Okay. So how are _we _meant to get out of here?" There wasn't any time to fall apart. They needed to get out as quickly as possibly and get Alec, Jace, Simon and Clary.

"I think I might know how to do it. I mean, it's purely theoretical, but…"

"But it's the best we've got right now." She finished. "Go on."

Magnus got up silently and gestured for her to follow. She walked briskly after him to a small study that was an explosion of colours and glitter so bright that she had the impulse to shield her eyes. He flipped open a book at the desk. Scrawled on the page was obviously a demon language, harsh and spiky-looking. Chthonian, maybe.

"Maybe…" Magnus mumbled to himself. Isabelle forced herself to be patient.

She gave up after a few seconds. "So…?"

"There are a few different ideas that I'm working on right now. I think the one most likely to work is when all six of us are together in every single dream in the same place. Then, I would have to force my way into Clary, Simon and Jace's hallucinations and cast a spell. It's going to take a lot out of me, but I should be able to do it."

**Finally, Magnus may have figured out how to get them out of the dreams! But Jace still hasn't made an appearance...**


	8. Chapter 8

**I get off school in two weeks, but for this week, I've got so much work to do. I haven't even started writing the next chapter (yikes). Hopefully, this is the last few days that I'll be too busy to write. After the holidays, there's a crazy term with exams and whatnot, so I'll try to do as much as I can over the break...**

**Thanks to the favouriters, followers and reviewers!**

**Alaa (Guest): I will, it's just a question of when!**

**IridescentxPetals: Thank you for reviewing so often! They're so nice.**

**liveandbreathediangelo: Another person that reviews so much- thank you! This review made me grin (evilly). **

**Anyway, hope you like this chapter!**

Alec pushed his hair out of his face irritably. Idris was tiresomely hot at this time of year. He wandered idly from shop to shop along a canal, looking at weapons and specialty gear. There was nothing to do but wait, and it was wearing down his patience slowly but surely. Knowing that his family was in danger while he sat around, killing time?

He took some comfort in what Magnus had told him. He'd gotten to Izzy and told her the truth, and she was away from the demon posing as Simon. He couldn't even look at Robert now. Everything felt so real, but as soon as he looked into his father's dark eyes rather than seeing his usual icy blue ones- well, it was a reminder that he couldn't lose himself in this alternate reality, no matter how perfect it appeared to be.

He wondered where Jace was. Off in some manor house with Clary? Successfully taking on a ridiculous amount of demons and winning? Probably a combination of the two.

He picked up a bow made of a dark wood. The weight felt reassuring in his hands as he turned it over, examining the work while letting his mind drift. Magnus was looking more exhausted each day. It had only been three days, but splitting his energy while working on breaking into everyone's dreams, and perfecting the spell.

Alec put the bow back regretfully, moving to the next shop.

He could feel the drag of guilt in his step, the heavy weight pulling him down and down. It was almost like he could sink through the paved road. Magnus was wearing himself out for him. Magnus was sacrificing a lot to find the people he cared about, and he couldn't even help.

On top of that, he was avoiding everyone except Magnus. They wouldn't notice, and it would be too easy to tip over to not wanting to leave at all. Surrounded by the population of Idris who told him who amazing he was at every turn, he was beginning to understand how celebrities- how _Jace _got a big head.

He was broken out of his thoughts by the familiar loping towards him. Alec fell onto Magnus, careful of his depleted strength but needing some comfort. Magnus returned the embrace, although his arms weren't wrapped around him as tightly as usual.

"Are you okay?" He murmured.

Alec managed a laugh. "Shouldn't I be asking_ you_ that question?" He stepped back, taking in his appearance.

"I've got some news, if you'll tear yourself away from your concerns about me long enough to listen."

He rolled his eyes, gesturing for Magnus to go ahead. If he had news, it was probably important. And Alec could really do with some fresh information.

"I have found out where Simon's phantasm is based, and almost spoke to him. Clary's is in Idris. I've encouraged some curiosity in her, so hopefully she'll take the bait to come and find me, which allows me to preserve my energy."

He needed to know about Jace and Isabelle. Clary and Simon were nice enough, but his siblings were, without a doubt, more important. Magnus could obviously see the question on his face.

"Nothing new's happening with Isabelle. But Jace…" he passed a hand over his face. "He obviously doesn't want to be found." A wave of numbness swept through Alec. "I've used all the methods I can think of, and he's nowhere to be seen."

"Would it help if I contributed some ideas of where he might be? Or you could ask Clary and Isabelle." He suggested, pushing away the uncertainty that had gripped him. They were Shadowhunters. Every time someone walked through the Institute door, there was a possibility they wouldn't come back, so Alec was used to the idea of losing people. But, in situations like these, they had been trained within an inch of their lives. It wasn't as if they were facing demons unprepared. Alec bit his tongue, hard, to distract himself. He'd long ago accepted that. But somehow, the fact that it was essentially a _trick _that was taking Jace away made it so different from the harsh reality that was already established.

"These trances are far more complicated than even the most practiced magic users have dealt with. I've no idea if there's even a limit to the amount of places and times that anyone could be. They seem to be very specific- tailored to you individually. Even with the extra information, it would take too long to search through all those possibilities." Magnus sighed. "I'm sorry, Alexander."

His mind was whirring. "But you can't be giving up?"

"No." Magnus reassured him. "It may take a little longer to find him, but I think I have a solution. I'll keep working on it, and then we can decide whether to enact it or not." He took a deep breath. "It'll be taxing."

Alec felt the now-familiar rush of remorse. "I'm sorry… I really appreciate that you're doing all of this."

Magnus shook his head. "Not for me." He said gently. "For you."

His father stopped Alec on his way to his room. "I think we may spend a bit of time at our manor house. It's nice out in the Idris countryside, and you probably want to escape from all the attention."

He panicked. Going to Lightwood Manor meant that he would be much further away from Magnus, and it would be difficult to make the long journey without attracting attention from his family. And Magnus couldn't come to him- he needed to expend as little energy as possible.

"Uh… I love it in Alicante, Dad." He tripped over the word, feeling the incredible wrongness of calling a demon _Dad _and standing in a room with it without waging war. He searched his surroundings desperately for inspiration. "We just moved in here, and it's such a nice house. It would be a pity to leave it so soon."

The demon disguised as Robert frowned, obviously not missing the anxiety in Alec's voice. "We have plenty of time, and our manor is just as beautiful as this house. Maybe even more so." He stepped a little closer to Alec, making him want to back away. "Is there any particular reason you want to stay here?"

_YES! _Alec wanted to shout.

Instead, he swallowed the rising words and tried to come up with a more diplomatic reply. "I- I ordered a new bow!" Before the demon could object, he switched tactics. It wouldn't work normally but… "Besides, I'm eighteen now. Officially an adult. I can stay here by myself if I want to."

'Robert' narrowed his eyes. "If it means that much to you, we can stay. I doubt your brothers and sister would leave in a hurry without you."

"Um, thanks." He mumbled before walking quickly from the room. He could feel the blush starting to stain his face from the suspicious attention. Running into anyone right now would be problematic.

As he saw the flash of dark hair, he groaned inwardly. "Hi, Alec." His sister said suspiciously, coming to a stop in front of him. Her dark eyes rested on his face. _Where are you, Iz? _He thought despairingly.

"I heard your conversation with Dad. Why _is _it that you want to stay here so badly?"

Who was here if she wasn't? Alec hadn't stopped to think about the intricacies of how the hallucinations actually worked. Did the demon control everyone? Or were they simply like computers, programmed to find out information and react in certain ways?

Magnus was probably the only one with any hope of answering those questions, and even he might be hard-pressed to reply. But he knew that he couldn't trust anyone that didn't have their own mind. Isabelle was waiting, her eyebrow arching inquisitively.

"I really want to stay with Magnus. I feel like I haven't seen him much." The truth was a good thing to base lies on. He'd learnt that from Isabelle and Jace, anyway, watching them get all three of them out of trouble with a few easy half-truths. Like faeries, Jace had almost perfected the art of creative truth telling.

Isabelle's face relaxed. It seemed as though his experience hadn't failed. "Yeah, alright. See you later, Alec."

He watched her as she sauntered down the hall. There was definitely something missing from her. An irreplaceable quality that made her _Izzy. _Maybe everyone had that, the one piece that was impossible to replicate, and without it, they were never quite themselves. Clary had spoken about it once, fleetingly, with Jace. While Sebastian was controlling him, he just wasn't all there. He wondered how well you had to know a person to recognize that an unmistakable fragment was absent. Surely the others could see the where the demon hadn't been able to capture the essential essence of the people around them, and use the inexactness to push themselves away and out of the dreams.

One could only hope.

**It's so sad, making all of them realise that they're alone. Poor Izzy. Poor Alec.**

**Please tell me what you thought!**


	9. Chapter 9

**_I have no excuses. _Really, I'm so sorry to all of my followers. I feel like every time I'm on here, I'm apologising for something. But thank you for all of your kind words!**

**AmeliaJane14: In Clary's dream, Jace is NOT a demon. I just couldn't do that... hopefully the question will be answered in this chapter. And your ideas were pretty good.**

**IridescentxPetals: Yikes. I probably just completely contradicted the 'update the story so often' and I'm apologising to you for that specifically. Because, seriously, your reviews are awesome.**

_When you need me, fire-message me. I'll be here as soon as I can. _

Clary moved toward the stables, securing her hair in a messy braid behind her head.

_When you need me…_

She wondered why Isabelle had gotten injured in the first place. She was more than a competent fighter, and could hold her own against a few demons. The demon poisoning never should have happened- and was it coincidence that the warlock seemed to know them?

Clary swung herself up onto Jace's horse. It was a regal dark brown Oldenburg, but Idris was small enough that most inhabited places were within walking distance.

Today's journey was at least an hour by horse.

_When you need me, fire-message me. I'll be here as soon as I can. _

The sentence played over and over again in Clary's head. Sometimes, Magnus Bane emanated familiarity. Others… the warlock would turn into a distorted version of himself- teeth blindingly white and incisors sharpened to points like a vampire's. Only when she was sleeping did he turn into a nightmarish monster, but it was enough to convince her that she needed to have the advantage when meeting him.

Leather bit into her hands, and she looked down to see red lines scored across the surface of her palms where she had clenched the reins too tightly. She told Jace of her dream the first time it happened, but he went alarmingly still and asked why she was dreaming about the Downworlder_. _

She sighed and set off at a canter. It was difficult to restrain her desire to get there as quickly as possible.

Something was a little off with Jace like it never had been before. Even when-

The sentence stopped abruptly. Clary couldn't even remember what she was going to think. Trying to clear her head, she let herself relax into the lull of the motion beneath the horse's hooves and the flashing greens passing her.

Before too long, she was tying the reins in a secure knot and heading towards the place that the werewolf she'd run into outside Alicante directed her to. The cottage looked pleasant enough, although the harsh modern lines looked incongruous with the organic contours of the forest. Clary barely hesitated before walking up to the heavy door and knocking. There was a shuffling behind the door, and then it swung open reluctantly to reveal Magnus Bane. He grinned. "Clary." Seemingly contented, he opened the door a little wider until she could see down a canary yellow hallway adorned with exotic treasures. She had no doubt he'd procured some of those illegally, but she wasn't about to haul him up for breaking the Accords. She had an insatiable curiosity about what he had to say.

"Please, come in." He ushered her through the door and shut it with a bang, along with the unmistakable murmur of a spell.

Shadowhunter instinct kicked in as Clary glanced around for danger and glamours, but saw none. Magnus led her down the hallway into a room with deep red sofas and dark walls. She followed his lead and sat warily.

"How has Jace been?" He asked.

Clary felt something like a kick to her gut. Anger swirled around her mind, shrouding her thoughts. Did he know how strangely Jace was acting? "He's fine." She lied, keeping her voice steady as she could.

"Really?" The warlock seemed disbelieving- as if he would be amused if the situation was less grave. Because the jovial mood that he met her with had disappeared almost as soon as they sat down. Tension gathered in the air and Clary remained silent until it was almost palpable.

She couldn't take it any longer. Her temper flared. "What's it to you?" Too many questions. Not enough answers. "_Tell _me. By the angel, what is going on?"

"Clary, I need you to listen carefully. I need you to keep this a secret."

She bristled, but as she opened her mouth to retort, he cut her off.

"And I need your help."

* * *

"So, you're saying Jace and this 'Simon' are both stuck somewhere, and you don't know where they are?"

Magnus nodded silently.

"And someone in this… _thing_… is a demon, but you don't know who it is- but it can't be Jace."

He nodded again.

Clary struggled with the new information but shoved it aside for the moment. Magnus could clearly read her emotions and shifted, mumbling to himself. "_I've done this too many times."_

She cleared her throat, wanting to talk about something else. "You must really love Alec."

His head jerked up. True surprise flashed across his face for a fleeting second before he regained control and his face smoothed into its normal impassive state. "What makes you say that?"

She rolled her eyes. "Come on. This amount of effort- it's obviously taking a lot out of you. Even if you and he aren't together, this speaks volumes."

Bitter humor chased away the indifference. "I'm lucky Alec is so clueless then, aren't I?"

She took a breath to correct him, to tell him what a wreck Alec had been because of the _knowledge _that Magnus didn't think he possessed, but he spoke over he once again. "Let me tell you my plan instead." He continued, heedless of her opinion. "If all you are with me at the same point, I can split my energy six ways, and each 'version' of myself can perform a spell, and bring everyone together. Then, together four Shadowhunters, a vampire and a warlock should be able to overpower a demon, even if its been feeding on your emotions throughout the duration of these dreams. I just need to break into Simon and Jace's illusions."

Clary didn't say anything. She just tried to remember Simon. Little flickers here and there came to her- his sticky hand holding hers as they crossed the street to school, the promise that he would never cut her out of his life the first time she'd been to the city of glass and after her mother showed up. But it was more than enough to convince her that both he and Jace needed liberating.

Clary wrapped a strand of red hair around her finger and then unwound it again. Then, she did it again. And again. Magnus had conjured up two cups of coffee, and hers was nearly drained. "I just… I need a little time to regroup before I go back and face a Jace that isn't there." Her voice dipped dangerously on the last word. They'd been through too much, and now she should be closer than ever before. Instead, she was further from him when they'd thought they were siblings. _That _was the sentence she never finished when she was riding here.

At least she knew that Jace was there. Even when Sebastian controlled him, she knew he was safe. Now, Magnus was telling her that he had no idea where he was.

"Okay." She took a calming breath to clear her head. "Okay. See you later, Magnus."

She put her cup down and walked to where her horse was snuffling at some grass contentedly. She hoisted herself up onto the horse and rode away, not looking back once.

**I've just started the next chapter, so hopefully that will be up in the next week. I'm trying to keep a regular updating schedule now.**

**What do you guys want to happen? How do you want this to end?**


	10. Chapter 10

**Another chapter! I feel so proud of myself. **

**Thanks to the reviewers, followers and favouriters!**

Simon frowned as he crossed a street in Brooklyn he'd never been down before.

He'd been looking for a new record store that Eric had recommended, but obviously, Eric wasn't entirely clear on where it was, either.

He sighed and swung his backup over his shoulder to dig his phone out. The junk in his bag made it hard to find- a packet of gum, a Dungeons and Dragons manual, old receipts. Finally, his finger connected with the smooth surface and pulled it out, touching the button to make it light up. He glanced around once more, but there seemed to be no one around except for a guy covered in sparkles and in flamboyant clothing standing outside an apartment building and tapping animatedly at his phone. Simon practically had to blink a few times to handle the fluorescence.

_Oh, what the hell. _No one else knew where the store was, so he might as well ask. This guy looked relatively safe, anyway.

Simon walked up to him tentatively. "Excuse me. I was wondering if…" He trailed off as the stranger looked up. His eyes were green-gold, and had slit pupils, rendering them distinctly cat-like. Simon cleared his throat. People had all sorts of crazy contacts. "I was wondering if you could direct me to Red Eye Records?"

He looked amused. "Oh good. You're only the third Simon that has a friend named Eric. I must've got about fifty of them to tell their friends to got to Red Eye Records."  
Simon backed away. This guy was obviously crazy- never mind that he knew Simon's name, as well as Eric's. Maybe he was some sort of stalker. He was suddenly glad that his phone was still clutched in his hand. It was stupid to come out by himself today- for God's sake, he was still a sort of star. It was hard to remember that all sorts of people were actually interested in everything about his life.

"Ah, thanks for your help." He hesitated. "See you." He turned to cross the road again and head home, but a hand caught at his wrist. He looked down to see a set of lightly tanned fingers adorned with rings that felt cold against his skin. "I think you want to stay." Said the soft voice persuasively.

Simon started dialing. _9…. _

"You see, I'm not really up for convincing the cops that my intentions were harmless because they are, and I'm already fairly drained. "

_1…._

"I'm Magnus Bane, Sherman. Doesn't that sound familiar? " Magnus saw the look on his face. "It does. You may not have always liked me, but you do know that you can trust me. Because everything in your world is connected, and I'm far too entangled to let go now." Simon glanced again and the hand encircling his wrist. A heavy ring shone on Magnus' finger- a silver one, with a pattern of flames around the band. _Lightwood. _He thought involuntarily. _He and Alec must've gotten serious. _

_WHAT? _

Great. Now he was having arguments with himself. He should probably get himself checked into a mental institute after dialing 911. He couldn't believe he actually trusted this guy. Was he crazy?

_1…_ The final dial tone rang out in the long silence. His finger hovered over the call button.

Magnus' gaze held his.

His hand started shaking.

And he pressed the call button.

* * *

Simon sat uncomfortably in the hard plastic chair. "He tried to convince me that I knew him, and he wouldn't let go of my wrist."

The officer was young, probably only a few years older than him. The short haircut made his blond hair look darker, and the shadows under his eyes indicated he hadn't slept in quite a few hours.

No wonder he was grumpy.

"What do you want to do about it? File a restraining order?" The gruff tone grated on Simon's nerves. Not only that, but the somehow familiar eyes kept surfacing in his mind. But surely he would remember if he had met the guy before? Eyes like that weren't common.

"Well?"

Simon looked at the wilting plant beside the desk. Anything here seemed to be lifeless- including the people. He wondered if all the stations were as depressing as this one. The smell of stale coffee hung in the air, and the low murmur of tired voices sounded outside. Somewhere, someone was yelling.

A sudden compassion welled up in him. He _did _know this… Magnus. He didn't know how, and he certainly didn't know why, but it was a bad move to call the cops.

"Kid, if you're going to keep wasting my time, then get out of here and let us deal with the stalker."

Simon stood up. "I want you to let him go."

The cop kept glancing back at him, shooting him suspicious glances. They walked to the holding cell, where Magnus was chatting with a heavily tattooed man in a vest. He looked up when the officer standing at the door jangled the keys. "Hey. You get to go home." He said to Magnus. "God knows why." He muttered as he passed Simon.

The flamboyant man stood up, grinning at the man in the vest. "Nice meeting you, Greg." He walked to Simon. "Ready to go?"

Simon blinked. "Uh… yeah?"

Magnus swept out of the station, leaving a trail of stares behind him. Simon guessed they weren't used to seeing someone being so chipper after leaving a holding cell. As they walked out into the fresh air and sunlight, he took a deep breath. It would be easy to forget that it wasn't a permanent night in there.

"So what's actually going on here? I obviously know you, even if I don't remember truly meeting you."

Magnus entered a nearby coffee shop, gesturing for Simon to follow him. "You know how you recognized me, and the ring on my finger? Well, it's a lot bigger than just that. This whole thing is bigger than me, really."

* * *

"Look, you're speaking English, and I know the words you're using… but they don't make sense."

"Samuel-"

"Simon."

"I'm hopeless with names. After the centuries, faces just start to blur."

"_See_? That does not make sense. People do not live for centuries." He held the _s._ "In fact, they're lucky to live a _century_."

Magnus sighed. "Believe whatever you want, vampire. I know what I know, and you should know it, too. But I'm not going to force you to believe anything."

Simon latched onto something. "Clary's a demon?"

"She doesn't have the same defenses the other do. While she might have been real at the beginning of the dream, the demon was forcing her to act in a certain way. Then, I think she let down her guard. It got to her. So, you can take solace in the fact that she_ was _there for you in the beginning."

He almost couldn't handle it. He needed to keep going. "And now you need to find Jace."

Magnus hesitated. "I have another idea."

"Which is…"

"I can't find him. I've been searching for days. The quickest way would be to send the five of you into his dream and convince him to let go of the dream." Seeing Simon start to object, he interrupted. "I can get the approximate location of him, but I can't enter it myself. But none of you have a very amount of magic, so you may not register on the demon's 'radar', if you want to call it that."

"I'll do it. For Clary." He said immediately. "And I think the others will, too.

"Besides," he smiled. "How hard can it be?"

**Oh, Simon. How sweet! **

**What do you think of the turn of events?**


	11. Chapter 11

**Another chapter! And the next one's already written!**

**IridescentxPetals: I did hear about the parabatai! I was so happy- and it just seems fitting that they can have this ultimate friendship connection and share the new life they've come into (wow that sounded cheesy... but I have no shame!).**

**Emie14: Thanks! And here it is...**

* * *

Isabelle sat on the bed and looked around. The hot pink walls were interesting, sure, but she couldn't help wishing for her own black and silver ones. She traced her fingers over the whip coiled around her wrist. Surely there'd be some demons in this make-believe world that she could go and kill to work off some steam?

She got up and paced to the window. Drawing aside the black curtains that hung down from silver poles, she looked down onto the street. There was no one on it except for a lone cat that looked a little like Church.

Isabelle groaned. She couldn't help making comparisons to everything at the Institute, and the only thing it was doing was making her more homesick. Even the sight of handcuffs dangling from the curtains didn't make her smile.

She threw on her gear, grabbed a few seraph blades and a Sensor and hoped to Raziel that fake Alec was still asleep with Magnus. She couldn't deal with anyone right now. Crossing the kitchen, she opened the door roughly and slammed it behind her, setting a few trinkets in Magnus' apartment tinkling.

* * *

The alley stunk of rotting eggs and garbage.

Demons- and by the reeking smell, more than one.

Isabelle listened to the careful clicking of her Sensor. It was picking up trace activity, so they must've left here not long ago.

Deep down, she knew that this was stupid. She didn't go hunting without Alec and Jace, and she was rash and impulsive- without Alec to look out for her, she was practically toast.

But none of that mattered right now. She wanted to get lost in the physical demands of fighting, in the battle euphoria. Anger was bubbling at the demon that had trapped them here in the first place, and she couldn't go and start trying to kill demon Simon. It still wore his face, and she wouldn't be able to murder the dumb thing.

Her fury was encouraging her to run without caution, to attract the demons by yelling and yelling, but her training screamed at her that doing so would be suicide. She half sighed, half groaned.

Isabelle prowled across the alley, sticking to the shadows and walking silently. Nothing sounded except for the slow clicking of her Sensor, echoing in the empty lane. Broken glass sparkled as the moon came out from behind a cloud. Her boots crunched the glass softly, splintering them into fine, iridescent pieces. It was beautiful, she thought absently. But if you were to touch the pieces and get it embedded in your skin- well, nothing conveyed the impression more that beauty could be dangerous. Except for Jace.

The clicking picked up, indicating she was closer to the demons. Her adrenaline started to kick in, running through her whole body and lighting every nerve until it felt like she had a million electric volts inside her body, waiting to be unleashed. This was the part she hated the most- the waiting. In the minutes before the battle, when she wasn't doing anything, she wanted to launch into action more than anything.

Something moved in her peripheral vision, and she didn't hesitate to spin and flick her whip at it, causing a loud shriek. Suddenly, the small alleyway was alive with the cacophony of battle- fast swishes and calls and screeches. It was horrifying when the demons started talking to each other- it sounded like breaking plates or shattering wood. But Isabelle hardly noticed it. Her whip darted back and forth, decapitating heads and inflicting well-deserved wounds. _How many people have you trapped in a fake world? _She thought at a demon with a particularly nasty tongue. She brought it down with one swipe. _No more fun for you now. _

She fought hard, everything rushing away except for the tentacles laced with poison flying at her. She had her whip in one hand and a seraph blade in another, the glow dimming with every demon she finished. With a cry, she launched it at a Behemoth- the ugly thing was a sickly pale blue, with a huge mouth lined with rows and rows of teeth.

Almost as soon as it was gone, another rushed to take its place. Isabelle could feel herself tiring just a little, and that was dangerous in itself. She should probably clear a path and get out of here, but nothing was waiting for her when she got out of here. That alone was enough to make her attack with renewed force.

A green scaled demon went down, and then an Eidolon. Isabelle estimated that she'd killed at least five by now, and the numbers were diminishing greatly.

"That's enough." A familiar voice called from behind her. She faltered, long enough for a demon to try and get a sting in. She quickly severed the stinger, a ghastly black ichor pouring from where it fell on the floor.

"I _said, _that's enough!" Blue sparks crackled from beside her where Magnus had obviously fought to her side. The sounds of fighting fell away as the three remaining demons backed off a little, intimidated. Isabelle felt her heart pounding from the combat _and_ from the setup. She'd never been in this situation before- a warlock by her side that could command demons with as little as a bit of blue fire and some harsh words.

"You know who my father is. Do you wish to anger him?" The demons eased back another few steps. "That's right, leave. Go on home to Pandemonium, and complain to your little friends that I stopped you from getting some Shadowhunter meat."

Isabelle let out a cry of outrage. She could have handled it herself. Magnus shot her a warning glance.

The last demon gave her a dark look that sent shivers up and down her spine. It was a look that promised revenge.

If she got hurt- or even died- in this strange place, would the effects carry onto the real world?

"What if you just don't get hurt, Isabelle? That sounds like a good idea to me." Magnus said, glancing meaningfully down at her arm.

Did she say that aloud?

She was distracted from the though by something trickling down her hand. She looked down to see ichor burns covering her palm.

"It doesn't even hurt." She snapped. _Yet. _She added silently. "Why did you come anyway? I had it under control."

"I have no doubt in your abilities. And as fun as it was watching demons get their butts kicked, I have better things to do." He gestured impatiently for her to follow. With a huff, she walked after him, flicking venom from her whip.

"You can't FIND Jace? I thought you said you had his location a few days ago!"

Magnus sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. "Isabelle, let go of your whip. I've got his approximate location, and I have a plan, if you just calm down long enough to hear it."

Isabelle uncurled her fingers from around her whip reluctantly. How was it possible that after all of this, there were still _more _problems. She was sick of plans. Action was the best way to go. With an annoyed flip of her hand, she took a sip of her coffee.

Magnus continued, uncaring of her state. "I can't go in and find him, but you and your little gang probably can."

Isabelle leaned forward. "Let's do it."

**So now the only things left is to get them all in one place and transport them to wherever Jace is! How on earth are they going to escape the demon?**


End file.
